[ seconds turn to minutes, and he's left wondering why he even answered so quickly to begin with. sure, he's drafted at least a dozen messages to her in his head over the last few months, even actually typed a couple of them out before deleting the work. but there'd been no reason to send them, in his mind, regardless of the way nana nudged him, or yasu encouraged him, or even shin told him to quit moping about it already. she wasn't his anymore, by her own choice, and the last thing he'd ever want to do is cling to her when she didn't want to be held anymore. not by him, anyway.
so why was it so easy to pretend like none of the hurt was there anymore? just like that? ]
Tonight?
No, that's stupid
[ there's more he wants to say, but his thumb has other plans, it seems, slipping to hit send before he's composed his thoughts. he takes it as a sign—a humiliating sign, but a sign nonetheless. her response is too heavy, blaming herself for getting swept up, as if she'd be the only one involved or in control of things. of course he aches to see her again, hesitant as he is, and his hands were going to tell the truth now where his racing thoughts and stubborn mouth have been failing. of course he'd sneak out tonight despite the backlash he'll get in the morning for it, rolling up sleepless to rehearsal as long as it means getting to see her again. hell, even shelling out the cab fare just to get to and from to her neighborhood if it meant a private place to meet...and that she wouldn't have to go too far for what might not even be a meeting she wants.
but maybe she does want it, even half as badly as he does. and so he doesn't finish his thought just yet. he'll let it sit for a few minutes, not as bait but out of curiosity.
...and maybe a little bit as a spark to ignite his hope, and let it starting flickering back to life in a way he doesn't think he deserves. ]
no subject
so why was it so easy to pretend like none of the hurt was there anymore? just like that? ]
Tonight?
No, that's stupid
[ there's more he wants to say, but his thumb has other plans, it seems, slipping to hit send before he's composed his thoughts. he takes it as a sign—a humiliating sign, but a sign nonetheless. her response is too heavy, blaming herself for getting swept up, as if she'd be the only one involved or in control of things. of course he aches to see her again, hesitant as he is, and his hands were going to tell the truth now where his racing thoughts and stubborn mouth have been failing. of course he'd sneak out tonight despite the backlash he'll get in the morning for it, rolling up sleepless to rehearsal as long as it means getting to see her again. hell, even shelling out the cab fare just to get to and from to her neighborhood if it meant a private place to meet...and that she wouldn't have to go too far for what might not even be a meeting she wants.
but maybe she does want it, even half as badly as he does. and so he doesn't finish his thought just yet. he'll let it sit for a few minutes, not as bait but out of curiosity.
...and maybe a little bit as a spark to ignite his hope, and let it starting flickering back to life in a way he doesn't think he deserves. ]